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“I was just going to turn back,” he said, untruthfully; “may I walk with you?”

“I am not going far,” was the reply.

With soldierly courage the Major took this as permission; with feminine precision Mrs. Riddel walked about fifty yards and then stopped. “I told you I wasn’t going far,” she said sweetly, as she held out her hand. “Goodby.”

“I wanted to ask you something,” said the Major, turning with her. “I can’t think what it was.

They walked on very slowly, the Major’s heart beating rapidly as he told himself that the lady’s coldness was due to his neglect of the past few weeks, and his wrath against Halibut rose to still greater heights as he saw the cruel position in which that schemer had placed him. Then he made a sudden resolution. There was no condition as to secrecy, and, first turning the conversation on to indoor amusements, he told the astonished Mrs. Riddel the full particulars of the fatal game. Mrs. Riddel said that she would never forgive them; it was the most preposterous thing she had ever heard of. And she demanded hotly whether she was to spend the rest of her life in refusing Mr. Halibut.

“Do you play high as a rule?” she inquired, scornfully.

“Sixpence a game,” replied the Major, simply.

The corners of Mrs. Riddel’s mouth relaxed, and her fine eyes began to water; then she turned her head away and laughed. “It was very foolish of us, I admit,” said the Major, ruefully, “and very wrong. I shouldn’t have told you, only I couldn’t explain my apparent neglect without.”

“Apparent neglect?” repeated the widow, somewhat haughtily.

“Well, put it down to a guilty conscience,” said the Major; “it seems years to me since I have seen you.”

“Remember the conditions, Major Brill,” said Mrs. Riddel, with severity.

“I shall not transgress them,” replied the Major, seriously.

Mrs. Riddel gave her head a toss, and regarded him from the corner of her eyes.

“I am very angry with you, indeed,” she said, severely. The Major apologized again. “For losing,” added the lady, looking straight before her.

Major Brill caught his breath and his knees trembled beneath him. He made a half-hearted attempt to seize her hand, and then remembering his position, sighed deeply and looked straight before him. They walked on in silence.

“I think,” said his companion at last, “that, if you like, you can get back at cribbage what you lost at chess. That is, of course, if you really want to.”

“He wouldn’t play,” said the Major, shaking his head.

“No, but I will,” said Mrs. Riddel, with a smile. “I think I’ve got a plan.”

She blushed charmingly, and then, in modest alarm at her boldness, dropped her voice almost to a whisper. The Major gazed at her in speechless admiration and threw back his head in ecstasy. “Come round to-morrow afternoon,” said Mrs. Riddel, pausing at the end of the lane. “Mr. Halibut shall be there, too, and it shall be done under his very eyes.”

Until that time came the Major sat at home carefully rehearsing his part, and it was with an air of complacent virtue that he met the somewhat astonished gaze of the persistent Halibut next day. It was a bright afternoon, but they sat indoors, and Mrs. Riddel, after an animated description of a game at cribbage with Miss Philpotts the night before, got the cards out and challenged Halibut to a game.

They played two, both of which the diplomatic Halibut lost; then Mrs. Riddel, dismissing him as incompetent, sat drumming on the table with her fingers, and at length challenged the Major. She lost the first game easily, and began the second badly. Finally, after hastily glancing at a new hand, she flung the cards petulantly on the table, face downward.

“Would you like my hand, Major Brill?” she demanded, with a blush.

“Better than anything in the world,” cried the Major, eagerly.

Halibut started, and Miss Philpotts nearly had an accident with her crochet hook. The only person who kept cool was Mrs. Riddel, and it was quite clear to the beholders that she had realized neither the ambiguity of her question nor the meaning of her opponent’s reply.

“Well, you may have it,” she said, brightly.

Before Miss Philpotts could lay down her work, before Mr. Halibut could interpose, the Major took possession of Mrs. Riddel’s small white hand and raised it gallantly to his lips. Mrs. Riddel, with a faint scream which was a perfect revelation to the companion, snatched her hand away. “I meant my hand of cards,” she said, breathlessly.

“Really, Brill, really,” said Halibut, stepping forward fussily.

“Oh!” said the Major, blankly; “cards!”

“That’s what I meant, of course,” said Mrs. Riddel, recovering herself with a laugh. “I had no idea still–if you prefer—-” The Major took her hand again, and Miss Philpotts set Mr. Halibut an example–which he did not follow–by gazing meditatively out of the window. Finally she gathered up her work and quitted the room. Mrs. Riddel smiled over at Mr. Halibut and nodded toward the Major.

“Don’t you think Major Brill is somewhat hasty in his conclusions?” she inquired, softly.

“I’ll tell Major Brill what I think of him when I get him alone,” said the injured gentleman, sourly.